


Welcome to the Drawfee Room

by AnnabethBlack



Category: Drawfee RPF
Genre: Second Person, We're sorry, scifi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 09:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12273954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnabethBlack/pseuds/AnnabethBlack
Summary: Welcome to the Drawfee Room, where you use objects to open portals in to the minds of the Drawfee Creators





	1. Welcome

_Welcome to the_ **_Drawfee Room_ ** _._

_Here you are in a clean box. The walls won’t stay pristine white for long but we fully expect that. Most visitors like to defecate, urinate, or menstruate in a childish show of rebellion. Please don’t do this. This will only serve to make you suffer. We do not want you to suffer. We want you to enjoy your stay here. This is supposed to be a pleasant and magical experience. We wish to grant you an insight into your fandom. That is, after all, what you signed up for. Isn’t it?_

_..._

_Thank you for your cooperation. Please listen to the following instructions before you begin:_

_In the box on the desk are several items. Next to the box is the Activation Portal. For the_ **_Drawfee Room_ ** _your portal will appear_ **_above the Drawfee mug_ ** _. In order to open the portal, you must use any items from the box in tandem with_ **_the Drawfee mug_ ** _._

_In order to test your fandom knowledge and fully enjoy the experience we will not tell you the recipes for entering different dimensions. You may experiment as you please._

_When you are finished exploring you may exit._

_..._

_I do not understand the question. Please try again._

_..._

_I do not understand the question. Please try again._

_..._

_Thank you for registering your concern. It has been noted and flagged with the relevant personnel._

_..._

_..._

_..._

_You may begin._

  



	2. Julia's Room

_ Open the box. _

_ What do you see?  _

_ Only one item: a silver coin worth 5 francs.  _

_ Shouldn’t there be more?  _

_ No matter. _

_ What should you do with it? _

_ Throw it in the Drawfee Mug and wait.  _

_ You see that swirling portal, swirling and impossible like a black hole? _

_ Step in it. Go on. See what lies beyond. _

 

Imagine a blank canvas.

Imagine nothing but a blank computer screen, glowing with infinite, white-washed potential. Just visualise that blank screen: smooth, unblemished,  _ perfect _ . Not a scratch on the glass, not a spec of lint, not even a dot of ink.

Now paint it all black. Layer the darkness on thick so the white beneath becomes smothered by inky stains. All the possibilities are still there, the same as before, but now they must be born a different way; forced into existence out of the absence of light rather than its pristine amalgamation.

This is the deep deep dark. It is nothing but within it is everything.

The white pencil is a tool rarely used, except by true artists. The white ink does not run here. Not in this digital black cesspit of a canvas. There is no place for the bright brilliance of a white tool here. No room for that at all.

In the deep, deep dark of a jet black canvas the ink flows red like blood straight from the heart. Out of nothing blossoms crimson pen strokes, thick and bold like muscles at first, then thin like a spiderweb of veins. 

A nightmare is brought to life in silence as a stylus glides over the lifeless digital canvas. Just a bloody silhouette at first and nothing more. That alone is scary enough. The Creator adds colour from a meticulously selected palate. She slathers on skin and crafts details unimaginable to most. Light, shadows,  _ life _ is carved into the monstrosity on the canvas. 

Julia giveth limbs and she taketh teeth away.

A creation more beautiful and tortured than  _ The Scream _ is left in holy light, wailing like a newborn babe cursed with excruciating existence. This one a dolphin with teeth sharp like fangs and the spindly legs of a spider, too thin to move its blubbery mass but certainly able to flex and stroke a stranger in the dark. 

In the deep deep dark of a jet black canvas monsters lurk and abominations screech. They slither and wail, scuttle and cry, flail and scream in the agony of abysmal existence. 

In the center of it all, in the middle of the darkness where these creatures are born and live a blind existence, is a cage. It is small and cold, comprised of smooth iron bars and a chunky padlock. Intricate runes are carved over everything, not to contain but to create.

Inside the cage a human heart glows a dull red. It produces less light than dying embers but the poor heart seems like a beacon bright like the sun in comparison to its surroundings. Out of the shadows Julia looms, leaning into the cage and stroking the bars. 

A whisper rings through the dark, a set of instructions that only her mind can comprehend. In a distant corner, far away from the heart a new figure begins to take shape as the heart guides an invisible styles. Red ink flows like an umbilical cord attached to the new creation on one end and an idea on the other. 

Not all ideas are abominations.

Sharp lines like the blade of a sword form in the air, slicing new hope into the canvas. No layers of color, no holy light; just dramatic shading impossible to make out in the shadowy canvas. Red upon black melts into black upon white.

Grey in the dark, a samurai polar bear stands firm on its hind legs. The brim of its hat hides non-existent eyes but what does that matter when you can feel them burning into your flesh. A metallic  _ ching _ pierces the creeping crawling quiet. The moans and the scuttling stops. 

Nothing moves. 

Everything waits. 

In the deep, deep dark of a jet black canvas you can try to run but you are blind. It is not recommended. You may trip over creatures with too many limbs for one thing. You may trip over creatures whose limbs are too long, or too pointy, or too absent. You may be grabbed or snatched or torn for not looking where you are going because you cannot see what you are running in to. You may think you are running away from the danger but in fact you are just running closer to the thing chasing you.  

You can try to run but you are blind. It is not recommended.

The sound of thumping paws as you sprint through the dark nothing is a good indicator that the threat is behind you but what is in front? Perhaps it would be better to turn around and face the six foot, nine-hundred pound warrior bear. Without a weapon turning around is foolish.

When turning around is foolish, as is running, what do you do?

You stop. You wait until it is close and you dive between its fuzzy legs of course.

A sword swishes down as you dive and a hole is torn in the jet black canvas. Beyond the hole you see the Drawfee Room. The samurai polar bear stands to the side, sword raised to guard the entrance from the other nightmare creatures. It is time to return from whence you came.

 

**_Julia’s_ ** _ Room Completed. _

**Author's Note:**

> Character tags will be added with their chapter. 
> 
> A special thank you to reddit user dracoomega for allowing me to use some of their ideas in this fic.


End file.
